Just Nine Months
by Luna-Elentari
Summary: Labor is only hard work for the witch; the wizard's allowed to grin like an idiot. One-shot.


OK... I know I'm supposed to be working on The Bewitchment of James Potter... and Growing on Me! But this one-shot idea came to me from the sheer boredom of being stuck at boyfriend's house while he played video games with friends... Which, after you read it, may seem very weird because of the subject matter... A very big thank-you to Stephanie, aka **p3charmed**, for beta-ing this for me :)

So... this is the first time I've written a one-shot_ and _something non-L/J, let me know what you think via that little Review button! :)

* * *

"I've changed my mind!"

"Hermione... er... we're kind of past that point," said Ron, trying to keep calm, but feeling that any moment his stomach would burst from the excitement.

Soon - and, for Hermione's sake, he hoped it would be _very_ soon - he was going to be a father.

Ron felt his cheeks start to hurt; he had been grinning like an idiot the entire day.

"At least _you're_ having a good time," muttered Hermione, slumping back into the bed as yet another contraction subsided. Although the potions had removed the pain entirely, she was definitely not looking forward to what would be happening next.

"Darling, I know this isn't much fun for you," said Ron, kissing her glistening forehead. "But just think-"

'"_Isn't much fun_?"' cried Hermione, hoisting herself up to her elbows and glaring at her husband incredulously. "_Fighting Voldemort _wasn't much fun! But _you_ don't get it, because no one expects _you_ to pop a _watermelon_ from your-"

"We're going to be parents!" exclaimed Ron, clearly not listening to a word she was saying. "Right now - well, soon - we'll have a_ baby!_"

Hermione rolled her eyes and settled into the sheets. Ron had been absolutely intolerable for the past nine months. _"In eight short months we're going to have our very own child!" "Only four months left until our baby is born!" "In just three short weeks-"_

"Well," said Hermione, interrupting her own thoughts, "it would be significantly easier if I didn't have an audience_._"

Ron looked up. The midwife was preparing all her materials, assisted by a Healer from St. Mungo's.

"Honey, they're here for your health and the baby's safety."

"You know full well I was referring to_ them_," growled Hermione, indicating the other side of the room.

"Thanks, Hermione," called out Harry Potter dryly. "Check mate!"

"Damn!" cursed Hagrid, his massive right hand flinging his chess pieces to the floor in frustration. "I'd almos' had ya!"

"Should we leave?" wondered Luna Lovegood, looking up from several pieces of colored glass; she had assured them that one of them was useful for warding off snullfritzes.

"We're staying!" exclaimed Molly Weasley, pouring her husband a cup of tea. "We're the grandparents!"

"_I'm_ staying too," stated Ginny defiantly from the corner table, where she was building a train set with Teddy Lupin, "as I'm both aunt_ and _godmother."

"Who's the godfather?" asked Charlie Weasley, passing his brother Bill a plate of croissants. Bill took one and passed the plate on to Fleur, who took a minuscule bite out of one and handed the rest of it down to their toddler, Victoire, who was drawing with crayons on the floor.

"Oh crap." Ron froze in his spot.

Hermione looked up at him and immediately realized what had happened. "You _forgot_? I've been hearing about this baby nonstop and you forget to ask the _godfather_?"

"It all happened so fast-"

"Was _nine months_ not enough time for you?"

"Er... I'm sorry?"

Hermione could tell he was doing his very best to look remorseful, but that was difficult as he was still unable to stop grinning.

"Oh very well," said his wife, smiling in spite of herself. "Go on."

"Right. Oi, Harry! Want to be my - I mean, _our_ - pride and joy's godfather?"

"Godfather?" repeated Harry, returning Ron's grin as he considered the idea.

"It's easy, Harry," cut in Ginny, looking up from the bridge she and Teddy were constructing. "We just give dangerous or annoying birthday presents, and get the kid if they die in a broomstick accident."

"_Not _what I want to think about right now," groaned Hermione, gripping Ron's hand a little bit more tightly.

"Mate - I'd be honored!" said Harry, so pleased he looked nearly as goofy as Ron. Nearly.

"Bloody fantastic, mate! Now, just remember your godfather's example and buy our kid a world-class broomstick some day... it'd save us some gold!"

"No worries, I already know what to get for the first present..."

Hermione took a deep, calming breath, banishing the mental image of her one year-old zipping around the house on a toy broomstick as Harry had done.

"It's too bad the Longbottoms couldn't be here," remarked Ron, patting his wife's hand wistfully, "They'd have loved this!"

"Oh yes, because I feel so alone," muttered Hermione, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.

Then she felt _it_. "AHHHHHH!"

"Here it comes!" cried the Healer, rushing over.

"Push!" called the midwife, preparing herself to catch.

"AHHHHHH!!"

"ARGHHHHH!" shouted Ron, his face contorted in pain; Hermione was now strangling his hand.

"ARGHHHHHHHHHH!" bellowed George Weasley, startling the entire visitor's side of the room.

"What the hell was _that_!?" snapped Ginny, throwing a toy train at him.

"Just trying to be a part of it!"

* * *

:D


End file.
